


Counting Stars

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Constellations, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor, mild flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 17:59:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: Molly and Fjord enjoy a quiet moment.





	Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a Fjolly mood tonight. This clearly isn't canon and definitely doesn't fit into the narrative, but oh well.
> 
> Thank you for reading and drop me a comment if you'd like :)

Molly buys a bottle of Elvish wine. It’s not cheap but he feels like treating himself and he’s willing to spend the coin. He carries the bottle up to his and Fjord’s room, shoving the window open, and crawls outside so he can sit on the roof.

With an audible  _pop,_ he uncorks the wine, taking a deep swig, and looks up at the night sky. It’s a clear, cool night, and he enjoys the way the gentle breeze dances across his skin; tousles his hair. The stars twinkle down at him, a million diamonds too far away for him to touch. The moons are full, bright and white, and Molly smiles. He enjoys nights like these; a lot can happen in unexpected yet pleasant ways.

He hears the door open, Fjord’s heavy footfalls crossing the room. He hears Fjord grumble about the window being open, but his complaints falter when he finds Molly sitting on the roof.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

Molly smiles, looking back at him. “Enjoying the view.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“A handsome man is asking to join me? How can I say no?” His grin widens when Fjord flushes, and he turns his attention back to the night sky.

Fjord scrambles out of the window, cursing when he hits his head on the sill, grumbling to himself when he takes a seat next to Molly. He accepts the wine Molly hands him, drinking deeply from the bottle, making a face when he hands it back.

“What is that?”

“Awful is what it is,” Molly responds jovially, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking again. “Truly awful.” He puts the bottle between his legs, leaning back on his hands, and says, “I bet Caleb could tell us about every single constellation up there.”

Fjord mirrors his position, looking up at the sky. “Possibly. You know, I learned a few things from my time as a sailor.

“Really?” Interested, Molly tilts his head, looking over at Fjord. “Do tell, Mister Fjord.”

Fjord flushes again, tucking his chin into his chest, and Molly chuckles softly. “Stop it,” Fjord grumbles, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I only tease.” Molly looks back at the sky, pointing at the brightest star. “Tell me about that one.”

Fjord glances up at the star, staring at it for a long moment, face scrunched up in thought. “That there is called The Warrior’s Mark. Brightest star in the sky.”

“What’s it mean?” Molly asks in a hushed voice, transfixed by the way Fjord’s face is illuminated by the moons; the light sharpening his features and making him strikingly beautiful. 

“It shows warriors where the closet tavern is.”

Molly glares at him and Fjord chuckles, laughing harder when Molly gently pushes him away.

They spend the next twenty minutes passing the bottle back and forth; Molly occasionally pointing out stars. Sometimes Fjord would know the names of the constellation, other times he and Molly would make up a name. The made up ones become progressively bad until they’re both giggling helplessly, leaning against each other.

On an impulse, Molly rests his head on Fjord’s shoulder, noting the way he tenses up. “Should I move?” he asks softly, already picking his head up.

“Uh, no,” Fjord responds quietly, shaking his head. “No, you can, uh, can keep it there if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Molly settles his head back onto Fjord’s shoulder, closing his eyes. He listens to Fjord’s steady breathing, slowing his own down to match his pace. He stills when Fjord grabs his hand, nodding when he asks, “Is this okay?”

A comfortable silence settles over them. Fjord toys with his fingers idly before turning his hand over and gently stroking his palm. His hand is large and rough, callused from years of working on a ship, and Molly enjoys the way it feels wrapped around his own.

“I’ve been thinkin,” Fjord starts, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yeah?” Molly whispers, keeping his eyes shut.

“Yeah.” He feels lips brush against the back of his hand, and a shiver rolls down his spine that has nothing to do with the breeze.

“We should-”

The door to their bedroom slams open, and Molly and Fjord jerk apart, turning to see Jester and Beau step into the room. They spot the open window, heading towards it, and crawl through it.

“Whatcha doing?” Beau asks dropping down next to Molly and taking the mostly empty bottle from him. She takes a drink, makes a face, and grumbles, “This sucks.”

Pushing down his disappointment, Molly sneers at her. “I didn’t buy it for you.”

Beau makes a face, draining the rest of the wine.

“What were you and Molly talking about, Fjord?” Jester asks curiously settling down next to Fjord.

Fjord looks over at Molly, silently asking him what he should say, and Molly shrugs, leaving the answer up to him. He sighs, turning back to Jester, and says, “We were just looking at the stars.”

Jester looks up, wonder settling over her face. “They are really pretty tonight.”

“Yeah,” Fjord says, his gaze drifting back to Molly again. “Real pretty.”


End file.
